Tag Archives: Cousins Island

Northern Parulas were certainly the “bird of the week” at Sandy Point.

It was a special five-day run at Sandy Point Beach on Cousin’s Island in Yarmouth. It was a record-shattering run in fact, in which I tallied nearly 18,000 migrants engaging in the “Morning Flight,” or “morning re-determined migration” when nocturnally-migrating passerines relocate (to drastically oversimplify things) come sunrise.

(To learn more about Sandy Point, check out the site entry in Birdwatching in Maine: A Site Guide, and for more on nocturnal migration, interpreting the radar, and the “morning flight” phenomena, check out Chapter 5 in my first book, How to Be a Better Birder.Whaddya mean you don’t have these two books!?)

I’ve had a handful of four-day runs, but I cannot think of a time when conditions were favorable – and I was actually present, and not leading tours on Monhegan for example – for five straight days. But I have most certainly never had five days like this!

I recorded 72 species “deemed migrating” through here, not including migrants that were in the bushes, such as the Gray Catbirds and Song Sparrows that are so abundant in the brush here. It does not include species like Osprey, in which some of the many I saw this week were likely southbound, but impossible to separate from the still-locals. And this tally did not include all of the waterbirds, from Common Eiders to herds of dabbling American Black Ducks, and from Bald Eagles to hunting Great Blue Herons, as well as resident species.

I tallied 25 species of warblers, including a single Connecticut Warbler, one of the most sought-after parulids in Maine. A Northern Mockingbird was only my 5th ever noted here, and two passing Dickcissels are always a treat. But certainly the icing on the cake of this great week was the Lark Sparrow found by the group in the parking lot on the relatively quiet morning of 9/13. This was a first record for Sandy Point, and my personal 184th species here.

But it was the morning of the 11th that will go down in Sandy Point history! 8,185 migrants was not only a new record, but almost doubled the previous record (4,346 on Sept 21, 2010). It was incredible. More on that epic morning later.

A number of records for high counts for individual species were set, and I am sure even more would have been shattered if I had a higher rate of identification during the onslaught of the 11th. Other trends, typical of the season, were evident, such as the slow but steady change in the composition of the flight. The early migrants like Magnolia Warblers were giving way to a growing percentage of Yellow-rumped Warbles and Blackpoll Warblers for example. But it sure seems like we’re not yet running our of Yellow Warblers and American Restarts, however!immature male American Redstart

Yellow Warbler, adult male

So first, here’s the numbers (bold font indicates a new daily record).

9/9

9/10

9/11

9/12

9/13

Blue-winged Teal

3

0

0

0

0

Unidentified teal

0

0

4

0

0

Surf Scoter

3

0

0

0

0

Common Loon

4

0

0

3

0

Northern Harrier

0

1

0

0

0

Killdeer

0

1

0

0

0

Lesser Yellowlegs

0

0

0

1

0

Mourning Dove

0

1

0

1

1

Ruby-throated Hummingbird

2

0

0

1

1

Hairy Woodpecker

0

1

0

0

0

Northern Flicker

1

256

68

26

12

Pileated Woodpecker

0

1

0

1

0

American Kestrel

0

0

3

0

1

Merlin

1

1

0

1

2

Eastern Wood-Pewee

3

4

0

0

0

Yellow-bellied Flycatcher

1

0

0

0

0

“Traill’s” Flycatcher

2

0

0

0

0

Least Flycatcher

9

11

3

2

0

Unidentified Empidonax

5

0

0

1

0

Eastern Phoebe

1

3

2

2

2

Eastern Kingbird

2

1

0

0

0

Unidentified flycatcher

6

1

1

0

0

Blue-headed Vireo

1

3

1

2

0

Philadelphia Vireo

3

4

2

1

0

Red-eyed Vireo

42

49

30

9

4

Unidentified vireo

1

2

0

0

0

Blue Jay

0

0

0

2

5

Barn Swallow

1

0

0

0

0

Red-breasted Nuthatch

1

1

2

1

0

Golden-crowned Kinglet

0

0

0

1

0

Ruby-crowned Kinglet

2

1

5

4

0

Swainson’s Thrush

10

0

0

2

0

American Robin

4

3

1

2

0

Unidentified thrush

0

1

0

0

0

Northern Mockingbird

0

1

0

0

0

Cedar Waxwing

21

265

377

54

0

Ovenbird

0

0

0

0

1

Northern Waterthrush

0

0

0

1

0

Black-and-white Warbler

33

59

41

32

5

Tennessee Warbler

4

2

2

8

0

Nashville Warbler

8

8

10

4

0

CONNECTICUT WARBLER

1

0

0

0

0

Mourning Warbler

0

1

0

0

0

Common Yellowthroat

2

1

5

5

2

American Redstart

602

550

844

119

16

Cape May Warbler

18

5

8

5

0

Northern Parula

705

630

692

612

205

Magnolia Warbler

66

117

32

23

2

Bay-breasted Warbler

5

3

1

1

0

Blackburnian Warbler

7

6

1

0

0

Yellow Warbler

19

52

38

67

8

Chestnut-sided Warbler

5

2

0

2

0

Blackpoll Warbler

9

3

27

25

35

Black-throated Blue Warbler

8

7

4

4

0

Palm Warbler

0

0

0

1

0

“Western” Palm Warbler

1

0

0

0

0

Pine Warbler

0

0

0

1

0

Yellow-rumped Warbler

3

6

3

19

11

Prairie Warbler

1

2

1

1

0

Black-throated Green Warbler

118

63

73

57

26

Canada Warbler

6

0

1

0

0

Wilson’s Warbler

12

17

7

4

0

Chipping Sparrow

2

0

1

3

1

LARK SPARROW

0

0

0

0

1

White-throated Sparrow

1

0

0

0

0

Savannah Sparrow

2

0

0

0

0

Scarlet Tanager

1

1

4

1

0

Rose-breasted Grosbeak

3

1

0

0

0

Indigo Bunting

0

0

1

1

0

DICKCISSEL

0

0

1

0

1

Bobolink

1

2

0

0

0

Red-winged Blackbird

1

2

0

0

0

Rusty Blackbird

0

1

0

0

0

Baltimore Oriole

2

1

1

1

1

House Finch

0

0

0

1

1

Purple Finch

0

0

0

8

0

American Goldfinch

5

12

3

6

4

Unidentified

1915

1887

5893

737

192

TOTAL

3705

4057

8185

1866

540

Now, let’s take a look at the radar. Here are the density and velocity images from 1am (as a sample) on 9/9 and 9/10. That’s a ton of birds on the radar.

And even as late as 4:00am on each day, a lot of birds were visible, and a lot of birds were offshore.

The night of 9/8 through 9/9 featured light westerly winds, shifting to northwest by sunrise. And on the next night, light north winds became northwest overnight. Both, as expected, produced great flights over and through Sandy Point some dawn.

Weather patterns, especially at this time of year, rarely produce three great nights for migrants in a row. And when they do, it often results in fewer birds overnight (and therefore at Sandy Point) come sunrise; essentially, the well temporarily runs dry.

And as you can see by the 1:00am radar image from September 11th, the density was nowhere near the previous two nights, despite mostly light westerly winds overnight.

And by 4:00am, it was rather quiet.

Light northwesterly winds in the evening slowly gave way to light north, before becoming light and variable. After midnight, they became west but didn’t really increase until after 2:00am. Coupled with a lackluster radar return, this was not a recipe for a huge flight.

Nonetheless with a light westerly wind at sunrise, I was heading to Sandy Point anyway. If only because it was a day off, and I won’t have many more chances to visit “my office” this month. A milky sunrise further clouded (sorry) my optimism for a big flight, but there were plenty of birds in the air.

And then all hell broke loose.

It was incredible. It was frustrating. It was beautiful. It was painful. It was amazing. It was indeed overwhelming, and at times, my only hopes at quantifying the flood was to skip attempting identification and just click my unidentified clicker as fast as I could.

And I really can’t explain it. It “shouldn’t” have been this amazing.

Come nightfall, with high pressure remaining in control, and with light westerly winds and clear skies once again, a moderate to strong flight occurred overnight. Here are the 1:00am and 4:00am radar images from the wee hours of 9/12:

With light westerly winds come dawn, I was once again stationed at the bridge, and what was – prior to three days ago! – considered a very good flight passed over and through. It was even downright relaxing – and manageable – after the chaos of the previous morning. I had fun.

Not surprisingly, after four consecutive nights, the flight was much lighter overnight on the 12th into the 13th, as evidenced once again by the 1:00am and 4:00am images.

And despite very light westerly winds in the morning, and clear skies, only a light flight was to pass through the point. Of course, that Lark Sparrow more than made up for it. It was also nice to enjoy a slower flight – and identify many more birds than not!

So almost every morning made sense: radar plus weather conditions correctly predicted the intensity of the flight. Except for one. The Big One. And I can’t explain it. But, I am OK (mostly) with that – it’s one of the fascinating and flabbergasting aspects of documenting the morning redetermined migration!

Winds turned to the south during the day on the 13th, and continued light and southerly overnight, bringing the streak of five great nights of migration to an end. Come morning, I also slept in – relatively speaking – and then went for a massage. As my therapist began to work on my aching neck, she simply uttered, “Wow” and got to work. I felt the same on Monday morning when the greatest flight I have ever recorded passed through Sandy Point.

Species, such as this Swainson’s Thrush, that can be rather secretive in migration, are sometimes seen really well at Sandy Point!

Following yesterday’s cold front, a huge flight was underway come nightfall. It was by far the biggest of the season to date, and one of the stronger (by density) flights as you can see around here.

Here are the midnight radar and velocity images, for example:

Even as of 4:00am, with the eastern sky likely showing a little light, the flight was still strong:

So of course I was up early to go to Sandy Point. However, the winds were forecasted to be out of the northeast, becoming easterly in the morning. And, the local weather stations I looked at (and my windometer at home ) were all reading north or northeast when I awoke a little before 5:00 this am. The 6:00am Intellicast “Wind cast” image shows this coastal northeasterly wind very well:

After almost any night in the fall with a little migration, there will be a few birds at Sandy Point. And after a migration as strong as last night’s, there were bound to be some birds. However, due to a combination of geography and the instinct to fly into the wind to compensate for overnight drift (to oversimplify things a bit), there are just never a lot of birds at Sandy Point on northeasterly winds.

On the other hand, on both north and northeast winds, I have witnessed good morning flights (aka Morning Re-determined Migration” or “Morning Reorientation”) in the south-facing peninsulas that reach into Casco Bay, including the dual peninsulas of Harpswell. What I have not figured out yet, however, is which point is best, how, and when. This is mostly because I can’t tear myself away from Sandy Point long enough to find out!

But this morning, as I reached I-295, something made me turn north instead of south. With what was supposed to be an increasing northeasterly wind and a huge flight, this should have been a perfect morning to test my hypotheses at the tip of Harpswell. So, with no small feeling of impending regret, I drove down to Pott’s Point at the end of Rte 24 for the dawn.

As birds that were over and beyond Casco Bay at sunrise begin to work their way inland and compensate for that drift, island-hopping to the north and northeast deposits birds in the long fingers of the Mid-Coast. Unlike Sandy Point on Cousin’s Island, however, there isn’t a single leading line, perfectly-pointing peninsula, narrow crossing, and raised bridge (for visibility) that combine to offer a perfect morning flight observation location.

So I thought today would have been a perfect morning to see if Pott’s Point was the answer on a northeasterly wind, even if it meant missing a few birds at Sandy Point.

I was wrong.

I arrived at the end of Pott’s Point at 6:27, 20 minutes after sunrise, but found the wind to not be northeast, or even north, but to be north-northwest. Uh-oh, I thought.

But since I have yet to find a way to be in two places at once, I settled in for the next hour at Pott’s Point (it would have taken at least 45 minutes to get from Pott’s Point to Sandy Point), and counted…very, very little:
16 Cedar Waxwings
11 American Goldfinches
5 American Redstarts
5 Unidentified
2 Yellow-rumped Warblers
1 Pileated Woodpecker

Now, all of those birds were doing the “right” thing, flying from over the bay or from Haskell Island just to the south, then over Pott’s Point and northward up the peninsula. There were just so few of them!

If I only had a boat…

The view of the top of the power plant at the other end of Cousin’s Island was a reminder of what could have been, as Sandy Point is excellent in a NNW wind. Was I missing a huge flight? Or, were the winds northeasterly on the other side of the bay, and only a light flight was passing through there (although it would have undoubtably been better than the “flight” at Pott’s, I will convince myself of the latter!)?

In other words, I was here:

But should have been here:

Besides, it’s a peaceful spot to spend the morning, with the only traffic being a few lobster boats.

And the narrow peninsula does have a Monhegan-esque feel to it and its birding (sometimes).

So if the migrants were not at Sandy Point, where was the Morning Flight concentration this morning? Looking back at the radar images, there was not a ton of offshore drift (due to the lack of a westerly component throughout the night), so maybe there just weren’t a lot of birds offshore come sunrise. But there still looks like more than enough for a good reorientation flight at sunrise.

Bascially, I am not only left without an answer to my pursuit of a good Mid-Coast morning flight spot, but now I will no doubt spend the rest of the season being over-cautious about missing a flight at Sandy Point and therefore miss the next huge flight through Pott’s Point on a northeasterly wind!

There wasn’t much else left to do but go birding, so I poked my way up the peninsula and into Brunswick, checking a few of the hotspots. Some day I will find a rarity at Stover’s Point, but today wasn’t the day for that either. However, I did have some pretty good birding at Mitchell Field, including a trickle of warblers overhead. A Yellow-bellied Flycatcher and a Lincoln’s Sparrow were highlights, and other migrants present included seven species of warblers. OK, it was small consolation, but at least there were some migrants around Harpswell today!

Unfortunately, the wind and weather forecasts for the coming days hardly look good for Sandy Point, so it might be as much as a week before I am back to spending the sunrise at “my office” where I should be!

9/5 UPDATE: I received an email this morning from Bill Hancock who was at Sandy Point on Friday and reported it was “dead” and did in fact have a northeasterly wind. Phew! Meanwhile, I tallied 110 migrants on calm conditions on Saturday morning – a very light flight, as expected this time.

Warbler migration is in full swing right now, with at least 10 or more species easily found on most mornings at most productive patches. Nonetheless, I really hate to say it, but in less than 3 months, some of these birds will already be returning home to the Neotropics. In fact, in a little more than three months, I’ll be back at “my office” at the base of the bridge at Sandy Point on Yarmouth’s Cousin’s Island to count southbound migrants!

It’s true: the birds we think of as “our” birds that spend the winters in the tropics are actually tropical birds that spend a few months of the year taking advantage of the bounty of insects in the northern forests in the short summer. While it may feel like fall today (after yesterday’s 80-degre temps!), I only bring this up because the Morning Flight at Sandy Point was on my mind this morning, as I met with Central Maine Power and Lucas Tree.

As many of you will remember from the fall of 2011, enhanced maintenance (Federally required) of the high-tension powerline corridor through Sandy Point significantly impacted the most critical migratory bird habitat here. With the help of many of you also calling CMP and sending letters, the clear-cutting was stopped, but much to my chagrin, was resumed in the spring of 2012 without notice. To make a long story short, after several months, an agreement was reached. The agreement and essentially an apology from CMP has been posted on our website ever since.

The trees were planted, and the River Birch is doing well. While the Red Oak didn’t make it through last summer, a cherry has naturally resprouted nearby and is currently outperforming the other trees at the base of the bridge – the most critical trees for reorienting migrants. These trees are outside of the critical clearance area under the lines (one of my biggest arguments in the first place) and will continue to grow (excuse the pun) in importance to birds seeking shelter or rest before making the crossing to the mainland.

An early spring view from “My Office.”

Knowing that Sandy Point was due for the three-year maintenance schedule, I sent a email to CMP this winter, just to check in. I was assured that someone would be in touch this year when this stretch of corridor was due to be cut. And sure enough, last week, Nicholas Hahn of the Vegetation Management division of CMP got in touch, and I met with him and a crew from Lucas Tree this morning to discuss the current cutting regime.

First, let me say that I am very happy that CMP honored their commitment to notifying me about upcoming maintenance, and I greatly appreciate the opportunity to offer input. We all agree it’s easier to get on the same page before any work is done. I’m not unreasonable, and I don’t need to get upset any more than I have to.

We walked through the site and the trees that needed to be removed or pruned (fast-growing trees that could get too tall before the next scheduled maintenance in three years, aka “capable”) were identified. It all seemed very reasonable to me, and I had no objections. I did make sure the cutting of the Staghorn Sumac patch was kept to a minimum, and Lucas Tree agreed to take out a few bush honeysuckles before they got any bigger and further impacted the valuable Arrowwood Viburnum stands.

So all in all, it went very well, in my opinion. There wasn’t much that needed to be done, and this small stretch of corridor will continue to be maintained with the lightest hand possible, offering safety and refuge for tired birds, and exceptional opportunities for us birders.

It was already 8:20am by the time I arrived, and therefore the sunny edges were less busy. And since the deeper woods are not yet too active, the overall birding was a little slow today. However, there’s clearly a lot of potential for birding opportunities here.

10 species of warblers were present this morning, including my first Chestnut-sided and, in the powerline corridor, my first Prairie of the season. My “FOY” Great Crested Flycatcher sounded off, and I was rather surprised to encounter a Black-crowned Night-Heron, a state Threatened (and proposed for upgrading to Endangered species). The pond is big enough to be worth a check in waterfowl migration, and I bet it can host a lot of swallows in early spring. And there’s likely a lot more breeding around its edges and deeper in the woods than what I detected this (still) early spring day.

Voter-approved bonds are not political bargaining chips. These have been approved by voters and are not subject to the Governor’s personal approval – he’s not a king, although sometime he tries to act like it. The protection of Knight’s Pond has no relation at all to increased timber harvesting on state land (don’t get me started on that one…deer yard “thinning” anyone?). Hey, I get politics – things are negotiated and compromised. In theory. But as usual, with this “Governor,” it’s not about compromise – it’s about getting his way.

We all know how kids change the rules of the game when they’re not winning. I probably did, and you probably did too. And every neighborhood had that kid who, upon not getting his way, took his ball and went home. To me, this is akin to what the Governor is attempting to do – except this is not a child’s playground. There’s a reason it’s called the “Land for Maine’s Future” program. And the time is now for the Governor to grow up, act like a Governor and not a spoiled child, and release these bonds so this property and other valuable parcels can be conserved for all Mainers – forever – before it’s too late.

I actually expected more juncos and especially White-throated Sparrows (at least in the parking lot, they almost never cross the water here), but the American Robin count was actually my third highest here. The redstart, one of the first birds of the morning, was definitely unexpected – it has been several weeks since I have seen one.

So was this my last good flight at Sandy Point? I sure hope not, but the calendar is getting late. There’s no doubt there is still a big push of juncos at least. But we’ll see if the weather conditions cooperate.

Meanwhile, as SandyPoint winds down, “Rarity Season” starts to pick up. There’s our Bell’s Vireo in Harpswell, an Ash-throated Flycatcher on Monhegan, a Pink-footed Goose that was up in The County, and the usual smattering of fun fall stuff like a White-eyed Vireo or two, a couple of juvenile Red-headed Woodpeckers, and a sprinkling of “late” birds in no doubt partially due to the mild season. I believe there are symptoms of Rarity Fever welling up inside me!

After three nights with little to no migration, birds took to the skies en masse come nightfall last night. It was a big flight. For examples, here are the 10pm, 1am, and 4am reflectivity and corresponding velocity images:

That’s a heckuva flight! But as October goes on, more and more of the migrants are sparrows. Most sparrows (juncos and Chipping Sparrows are the exceptions) do not partake – or barely so – in the morning re-determined migration (“morning flight”), at least at Sandy Point, so I have been disappointed with the tally come dawn at Sandy Point on more than one occasion in mid-October. While this morning’s flight was still good, it was not as busy as I would have expected based on the density of those radar returns. But there were a lot more sparrows around in the bushes at Sandy Point and elsewhere this morning; I wonder what percentage of last night’s flight were White-throated Sparrows?

At the bridge at Sandy Point, the morning’s flight started out quite slow. By 7:30, I had even considered packing it in and going to look for sparrows. But then things picked up a little bit, and a steady trickle of birds slowly added up to a respectable tally. Both kinglets spent a lot of time swirling around the point this morning (as usual, I was conservative in my count of how many were actually crossing, as many would turn around, come back, and try again), and the sparrow tally was probably a lot higher. However, by the time I left the bridge, most White-throats had already dispersed into the woods. Song Sparrows – which I do not attempt to tally due the number of breeding birds in the powerline cut – were definitely more abundant than they have been as well.

Afterwards, I did a circuit of the local “goose fields.” As with everywhere to our south, the resident, non-migratory population of Canada Geese is burgeoning in southern Maine. This resident population begins to coalesce in the fields of Yarmouth, Cumberland, and Falmouth in early August, and by the middle to end of September, the flock includes a sizeable percentage of the local breeders. The percentage of local breeders that are in the fields on any given day increases with the onset of early Canada Goose hunting season in early September.

This year, the number of geese among all fields has varied between 200-300 total birds since early September. This number of pre-migrant birds has grown steadily over the past five years in particular. This week, the first real influx of geese arrived, presumably from some points north. It is the flock of resident geese that know the safe fields (no hunting, less Bald Eagle activity) and travel corridors to and from the bay where they roost that attract the migrants, including those occasional rarities.

My high count this week of 445 Canada Geese today was my highest tally since the spring. A couple of Eastern Meadowlarks and up to 8 Killdeer were also present at Thornhurst Farm this week, and Eastern Bluebirds have been rather widespread. A Pied-billed Grebe was once again in the pond on Woodville Road in Falmouth, as is often the case at this time of year.

The goose numbers and the chance for finding rarities should only increase (well, with various ebbs and flows) from now through the first heavy snow. In fact, I often find my first “good” goose in the second week of October. It’s also primetime for sparrows. And this is why I hate leaving the state in October, but once again, I am off!

Early tomorrow morning I depart for Iowa, where I will be speaking at the Iowa Ornithologist Union’s Fall Meeting. I’ll be giving the keynote presentation on “How to Be a Better Birder” using my SandyPoint case study program and I will also be showing my Russian Far East travelogue. Finally, I will be joining the 2009 Bradbury Mountain Hawkcounter, Danny Akers, in leading a field trip.

After my weekend in the Hawkeye State, I head to Wisconsin to visit the Urban Ecology Center in Wisconsin. In between and thereafter, I’ll be spending a couple of days birding and visiting with friends. I’ll post the occasional update about migration in the Midwest, my birding, and other musings on my book’s Facebook page should you be interested in following my travels.

Now I am just left to wonder what state bird I will miss here in Maine while I am away (there’s always one!)

An otherwise slow morning flight (more on that shortly) was interrupted by an odd call emanating from upriver of the bridge. “Hmm, sounds like a Black Skimmer, I thought.” Uh, wait…but alas, there it was! It alighted on what was left of a small sandbar with a couple of gulls, and as that sandbar became inundated, it took to the wing again and began to forage. I lost sight of it as it moved up the bay, but a little pocket of Palm Warblers moving through distracted me.

Looking at the radar last night, the flight seemed strong, but the Morning Flight was decidedly slow. Here are the 1am radar and velocity images for example:

A couple of things are noticeable. For one there’s the fairly narrow diameter of the flight reflection which would suggest a low flight (the radar beams well out from the tower are above the height of birds; the “angle of elevation). This definitely happens when birds, such as sparrows – and they’re definitely on the move right now – which tend to fly relatively low dominate the flight. So perhaps a lot of the flight last night was of the sparrow variety.

However, the velocity image suggests the north to south motion was rather slow. Perhaps it was just because it was so calm and slower-flying migrants were in the air and therefore were making less progress (ground speed). Or maybe there’s a lot of dust and bugs up there; it has been warm and dry after all.

Regardless of the explanation, or lack thereof, the flight was slow. But did I mention I had a Black Skimmer?

Afterwards, I decided to check on my “lots of sparrows moving last night” hypothesis, so I visited Old Town House Park. There were an ample amount of sparrows (30+ Song, 20+ Swamp, a small number of White-throated, 2 Lincoln’s, 1 Savannah, and 1 White-crowned), but not enough to conclude much about the composition of last night’s flight, or lack there of. But it was pleasantly birdy, with a nice sprinkling of other migrants, including 11 Eastern Bluebirds, 2 Pine Warblers, and the first Purple Finch that I have had in a couple of weeks.

Meanwhile, in the goose fields, things have not yet begun to heat up. While there may be some bona fide migrants around, my tally of 283 Canada Geese today fits right there within the 200-300 that have been present since late August, when the local resident birds began to flock up post-breeding. This will change soon.

I do love it when the big ones fly by, especially on mornings like this. They’re easier to identify and tally…especially when they are Pileated Woodpeckers!

It’s also nice when more birds pause in the trees at the point, allowing for identification as a “sample” of what’s going overhead. It’s especially nice when they land in front of my face…like this Philadelphia Vireo did. If only there weren’t a few twigs between us!

I usually leave the bridge before raptors begin to get going, but today, I was treated to an early-morning Peregrine Falcon flight. A couple of the birds didn’t even blink and eye and kept going. Others terrorized migrant flickers.

Normally, I start off with the overnight radar analysis to describe why there were (or were not) so many birds come morning. But today, let’s cut to the chase and get right to the numbers:

So there you have it. Wow. <Insert various superlatives and/or swear words> I just wish I could have whittled down that unidentified total a little bit more – who knows how many single-species records I might have set?

There were two reasons the unidentified tally was so high. One is that early-morning cloud cover once again reduced many of the birds to silhouettes. Secondly, the intensity of the first two hours of the flight was really exceptional. On multiple occasions, I could do nothing more than step back look up, smile, and click off a cloud of unidentified warblers – no point of even lifting the binoculars. Bunches of birds high overhead; I’d follow one bird into the Magic Elm, and 20 would shoot out. Birds were sneaking below me. It was, at times, a bit overwhelming! But it was also exceedingly fun; I like the challenge, and since my interest lies in quantifying the flight as much as identifying the composition of it, the high unidentified tally only bothers me a little…OK, maybe a little more than a little, but anyway…

I couldn’t resist taking a few photos, such as the Philadelphia Vireo landing in front of me, or the majestic Pileated Woodpecker cruising by. 16 species of warblers, a bunch of new records and near-records, and some “good” birds. Yeah, that’s a good flight. But I actually think my highlight was one little female American Redstart. She dropped in from high overhead, straight down into the regenerating cherry that stands directly in front of me (and perfectly blocks the sun from my eyes for the first hour of the day) – the one the Philly V was in – and hopped her way to the near edge. She looked at me, and cocked her head to look at the camera lens that was lying down next to me. I am guessing she saw her reflection. She looked at me, chirped in a gentle contact call – not the harsh alarm call or even the sharp flight call – and then hopped back into the brush. We had a moment. I enjoyed that.

OK, back to business…the radar. Save these images for future reference. This is what “GO BIRDING IN THE MORNING!!!” looks like. Here are the 10pm, 12am, 2am, and 4am radar and velocity images for example <insert “boom” sound>:

Even at 6:00am, with light more than peaking into the eastern sky, birds were still on the move. If I had not expected to go to SandyPoint for sunrise this morning, and I had seen this image, I would have flown out the door.

When there are this many birds in the air so close to sunrise, there are going to be a lot of birds taking part in the “morning redetermined migration” come dawn, along with crepuscular migrants that are moving in the early light. The radar provided all of the suggestions of a big flight. And, with a light northwesterly breeze, many more birds were low and in the trees than on the westerly breezes of the last few mornings. Here’s the wind map, showing that low moving off of the Maritimes, ushering in a north to northwesterly flow behind it – as I postulated on my blog yesterday.

While I am rarely even at Sandy Point for four days in a row, it is exceedingly rare that the fourth day would be so busy. But I think that upper level low finally pulling out of the way re-opened the floodgates. And it looks like tomorrow should be good as well, continuing a most impressive string of good flight nights. But I will give my neck a break tomorrow from staring straight up and spinning back and forth at Sandy Point. Instead, I’ll just have to see what the flight will be like with my tour on Monhegan Island. Yeah, I know, tough life.